Scars
by Bones365
Summary: Ron and Hermione are still reliving the past, remembering old scars.
1. Chapter 1

A blood curdling scream reached his ears.

He whipped his head around frantically, trying to get to her, but he was bound and gagged. The walls around him were stone and bare, and he could hardly see.

Another scream. He tried to answer, tried to get to her in some way, but his throat wouldn't work, and no sound came out. His arms were bound and his legs were broken and he couldn't get to her.

He had to. She was what mattered to him, the only thing that had gotten him through this bloody war. Another scream. It was his name now, "Ron! Ron!" His hands were shaking and he was sweating through his clothes.

She had done so much, put up with so much, and he couldn't even save her. Not like he promised…

The screams were getting louder and more frequent. He tried harder and harder, twisting against his bindings, his wrists rubbing raw and bloody. It didn't matter. She mattered. One final scream, wrenching and agonizing, and suddenly he felt his heart stop, just as hers had.


	2. Chapter 2

Ron jerked upright in bed, sweat pouring and heart racing. His breath was coming in long, panicked gulps that filled his empty lungs.

He always stopped breathing when he had that dream.

He shuddered and his eyes snapped to the woman next to him. His breathing eased a bit. She was on her stomach, and the sheet was bunched around her waist, showcasing her perfect back, the dip where her vertebra was and that long forgotten scar.

He had been with her when she had gotten it. His mind flashed with scenes from the war, fighting as close to her as he could, but not able to get to her fast enough. The severing charm had shot past her, just brushing behind her.

He shook his head, his sweat-soaked hair flying, and put his head in his hands. He took a few deep breaths, but he could still hear her screams, still saw her panicked face in his mind's eye.

"What's wrong?" Her groggy voice beside him eased a bit of the tightness in his chest. She sat up, wrapping the sheet around her upper torso. She put her one of her cool hands on the back of his neck and the other on his forehead.

"You feel a bit warm. Do you think you're coming down with that bug running around the ministry?" Ron looked into her concerned brown eyes and smiled weakly.

"No, love, just a bad dream. I'll be fine." Her brows furrowed and the edges of her lips pulled down. Before she could speak, though, he bent down and softly kissed her.

"Go back to sleep, Hermione. I'm going to get some water. I'll be back." He gently pushed her back down. Swinging his legs off the bed, he pulled some sweatpants on and walked to the door.

Hearing the rustle of sheets, he turned around to see her sitting up again. He smiled. "I'm just going to the kitchen. I'll be right back." He tried to seem reassuring as he replayed her shrieks of agony over and over in his head.

Making his way blindly to the kitchen, he tried to reassure himself. She was fine. The war was over. That night at Malfoy Mansion was well in the past and all but forgotten. Except he couldn't forget it.

He bypassed the sink to get some firewhiskey from the cabinet. He needed some sleep tonight, and he wouldn't get it easily if the nightmares started. He had tried to hard to get to her. What was happening to her, his Hermione, in that godforsaken room. That bloody werewolf would get her, and…

"You can't keep thinking about it." The light flicked on and there she was in one of his old Cannon shirts. "It was over five years ago. There was nothing that could have been done."

"You're too bloody smart, you know that?" He looked at her over the top of his glass. She smiled serenely and sat down next to him. They stayed there together in silence before his eyes traveled down her neck.

Right there, just above the collar of his shirt and right next to her throat was a thin scar from the knife Bellatrix had wielded. Her finger brushed over it self-consciously.

"I'm fine." She said soothingly, placing her hand over his on the table. He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Yeah. I know. I just, I don't know…I should…I would have…"

"I know. But I'm fine. I promise." She traced the faint scars on his wrist from fifth year, contemplating. "You should have been there for that, I should have been there for this." She punctuated her words with soft sweeps of her fingers along his upper arms.

"Hermione, don't be ridiculous. That was…That wasn't anyone's fault. It just happened." She smiled bitterly.

"Best witch in my year and I was passed out in the middle of the ministry of magic."

Ron reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, away from her face. "Let's go to bed, love. We have work in the morning." Hermione nodded and together they went back to their bedroom.

Laying down, he pulled her into his arms and brushed his lips over the scar on her neck, running his fingers over the scar on her back.

She sighed and nestled into his chest. They both waited for sleep to come.


End file.
